I don't want my blog to become a Bummer Fest. I don't want it to become any kind of fest. No festivals here, pumpkin. No booths, no porta-potties, no stellar musical lineups. Nope, no festival. Perhaps I will create a separate blog for the quaint musings of an anorexic girl? And perhaps by "blog" I mean private journal. Then again, sharing my story/journey/fears with others might be helpful. My whole life is made up of "perhaps" and "probably" and "maybe" and "might," isn't it? Wandering, wandering, undecided mind.
As nice as it is to have a day off of work (thanks for at least one thing, presidents!), I welcome the chance to get back to a more set schedule. I am too all-over-the-place emotionally right now to handle having ample free time, especially when that free time is spent alone and cold and immersed in a life threatening illness. Crap! This just became Meg's Bummer Fest again! Point is, schedules are cool, even my current work schedule. I will be annoyingly cheery today, smiling at dumb adults and dumb kids. Fake it 'til you make it! And the kids aren't dumb, by the way. I was just "joshin'" ya. The kids are dumb in the sense that most of them can't think critically and have poor penmanship, but they are also tiny alien geniuses and frighten me by the sheer power of their creative minds. Damn them! And bless them! And can I be a child again?
Maybe that's all I want. To be a child again, to be taken care of, to not have the weight of adult responsibilities on my frail shoulders. I have done a pretty decent job so far at avoiding the fact that I am a grown up. But being physically an adult does not mean that I have to let go of my alien-genius-childlike wonder. Then again, I feel like it doesn't "stick around" just because you want it to. We evolve (devolve?) and our minds seem to become more... rational. More concerned with those icky adult things I avoid, like diseases and property taxes and midterm elections. Okay, there's no part of me that is concerned with property taxes or midterm elections. Still, you get what I'm saying. Right? Do you? Am I making any sense? Am I making any money so I can pay for my imaginary property taxes? If not, who should I elect in order for me to make more money? Whoops, now I'm getting sidetracked and sending you down a maze of absurdity. One day I'll provide you with a map, I promise.
So I will be at recess today, reminding myself that I am getting paid to push 5-year-olds in swings. I tell the dumb munchkins that they are going to swing right up into the trees and then up to the top of the mountain where they will see all kinds of things! Cabins and castles and polar bears! Hell, they may even see some dumb character from Frozen! And then I let the zombie monkeys over at the monkey bars tell me about their adventures in the rain forest. I let them climb all over me as if I am a banana tree. And so maybe I still have some of that otherworldly wonder left inside of me. Maybe I am not so hopeless after all.
No Bummer Fest today. Today I will allow myself to be carried away to the top of the mountain with the alien geniuses disguised as simple kids with scraped knees. We will explore together and discover the magic that has always been there and that will always remain.